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There was the awareness that he could have just as well stayed with the Ingalls, to see how everything worked out after all. He had actually had his fill and it was time to move on, possibly mosey down to St. Louis, New Orleans, or Arizona. Highly he felt that getting back house in 2000 was a no-go. It wasn't going to take place. He knew his location relatively well, the geography of 2000, the geography of 1875 he was a little fuzzy on. And beings that it WAS 1875, Old West, it was smart to be leery and careful and on guard-- Indians were still magnificent unsettled and outlaws roamed the wildlands, too.
A mountain path took him up into some rough country, he spent a week simply meandering around, discovering a couple of roaming cattle he helped himself to some fresh steak. It was a little gross and he identified that in the future he would just purchase one from a restaurant. Fishing was better and he nailed one deer. Residing in the rough was alright, he did miss the Ingalls' hospitality, Walnut Grove as a whole, also. When the first snows began to fall his thoughts rested solely on the Ingalls. A nice warm fire, a bed, hot soup, cornbread, fresh milk. His own grub was getting sporadic, the weather condition turning on him the greater he went, however he wished to get up and over the mountain ridge and down into brand-new territory he presumed would be one of the Dakotas, or potentially Iowa, maybe even Nebraska, he wasn't sure. Quickly the days got as cold as the nights. His horse was not approving of the weather change or the persistence of continuing the useless adventure. August had to concur-- he was getting nowhere quickly. The mountain course seemed to wind on and on and on forever. He struck off on another course that apparently led downward. Now he was totally lost. Another week passed, he ran afoul of a one pissed off territorial badger, gone after for miles by an even pissed off bear. He fell against a rock and bruised some ribs, clunked his head and knew that he had a concussion.
August was not entertained and ended up being very wary. He wanted his internal Device had some sort of ability to see items he himself could not see, or at least discover them, or something. He was at length able to calm the horse down, August strained to identify and listen for himself what had actually scared Tonto. He figured either a snake or Indians. Either one he was not cool with. Both were lethal, vicious, and deadly. He desired no part of either one of them. After backing his horse up a bit and protecting him to a bush August slinked off into the rough, lurking, listening and pausing . In one hand he bared a Colt revolver, the other hand a Bowie knife. He had a Springfield rifle with the horse.
August made a couple of more stalwart prowlings and finally came upon a guy. Flies were currently swarming and so August presumed that the guy had been dead there for some time. He wasn't going to be alive for really much longer, August had no method of reaching any medical professional. Compliance was not precisely complied to quickly, the two teenagers did their finest to bring and stall on-- forcing Dakota to again grab a holt of Adam's young head and wrench him upwards ... then in a flash the lad's wool pants were down and he was bent over Dakota's knee, the trap door of the long underwear the young boy used was ripped down and the barrel of the six-shooter packed into the lad's hole. Absolutely nothing was stated. Absolutely nothing needed saying, Mark went to his knees, parted his cousin's cunny lips and continued in noshing. Dakota worked the barrel of the gun deeper into the young boy's rectum, sodomizing him well. His other hand he hung on to the lad's hair, holding it up firmly, requiring him to enjoy as cousin Mark mounted Arlene and entered her. BASING ON Mark's back Dakota took his turn and fucking young Arlene. He squeezed her nipples, nipped and bit them, creamed deeply into her pussy and jammed the barrel of the revolver up into her well deflowered fucked cunny, worked it around a bit and then made her suck on the barrel.
Arlene was ruthlessly wrenched over and spanked hard, Mark needed to come and place himself on the table and place his dick into her mouth. The ordeal was incredible. If he weren't so ruthless, Dakota was August's kind of man. She was additional sodomized with Dakota's dick. There was nothing but still silence in the shack, just the crackling fire in the slapping and the fireplace balls against Arlene's ass made the only sound. When done, Dakota wrenched Mark up from the floor and pressed his face into Arlene's tormented ass-- Lick it clean! Dakota sneered. When Mark resisted to the horrible task of licking Arlene's cum packed asshole, Dakota then merely wrench the lad into a brand-new position-- Either you fuckin' lick HER hole clean-- he mocked and shoved his gangly ultra-funky dick up against the boy's face-- Or you SUCK my dick!
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